Zeekiel
by plumtuckered
Summary: While in the Expanse, the crew agree to transport two mysterious Datorians in exchange for information. COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note - The events in the story take place before "Proving Ground". I continue to miss the Archer/Trip friendship in the show but I won't ever abandon it in my stories! Be warned, this also continues the growing relationship between Trip and T'Pol.  
  
Reviews are welcomed and greatly appreciated!  
  
Disclaimer - I do not own any of the characters of Star Trek: Enterprise and I certainly don't make any money from them.  
  
  
  
ZEEKIEL  
  
By plumtuckered  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
  
  
"I don't know why the captain just didn't give the Datorians spices instead of using Enterprise as a shuttle service," muttered Commander Trip Tucker as he pushed around the food on his plate. He put his fork down and looked across the table at his friend. "We're close, Malcolm, I can feel it."  
  
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed took a bite of his cereal. "We'll find the weapon, Commander. Especially with the information they gave us. Well," he amended. "That is if they're right and the Xindi ship carrying the Kemosite passed through this section of space."  
  
"That's just it," replied Trip. "We don't know. Captain Archer is too damned trusting sometimes. This may just end up being a four day detour." The chief engineer shoved his plate away in frustration.  
  
Malcolm stopped eating. "I've never heard you say anything disparaging about the captain before. Are you feeling alright?"  
  
Trip rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm fine. Just haven't slept very well the last couple of nights."  
  
"Perhaps the sub-commander should double your treatments," offered Malcolm with a sideways smile.  
  
"Very funny," snapped Trip as he stood from the mess hall table. "I better get to engineering."  
  
"But you've hardly eaten."  
  
"I'm not hungry."  
  
"Commander," began Malcolm. "Trip."  
  
The engineer's shoulders sagged and he sat back down. "I'm sorry, Malcolm."  
  
"Are the nightmares worse again?"  
  
Trip nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Yep, and this time that woman is in them."  
  
"What woman?"  
  
"Meesa."  
  
"The elder Datorian? You're joking?"  
  
"Nope. I'm watching my sister die and she's standing to the side just smiling," Trip explained. He ran his fingers through his hair then looked at Malcolm. "There's something not quite right about her."  
  
"She's been sleeping ever since she and Zeekiel were brought on board, Trip," replied Malcolm as he took another bite of his cereal. "And she will remain so for the rest of the trip."  
  
"But when she looked at me, Malcolm---."  
  
"You must have imagined it. Even Dr. Phlox said there was no way she could have awakened in her current state."  
  
Trip sighed. They'd brought both the elderly woman and her companion on board only two days before when Archer had agreed to transport them to Datoria IV in return for information on the Xindi ship carrying the Kemosite. Trip had been setting up the old woman's special sleeping pod in sickbay when she'd awakened for only a moment. Her deep purple eyes had met his briefly before they had slid shut again. He'd felt strangely unsettled ever since.  
  
The commander shivered. "I know what I saw," he said simply.  
  
"Well she'll only be on board two more nights. Try not to think about her in the mean time."  
  
Trip nodded then sat forward. "Don't you think it's strange that the Datorians would send their elders to a whole other world?" asked Trip. He looked at his friend. "I mean if they're as revered as Zeekiel says they are, why ship 'em off to a rock for the rest of their lives?"  
  
The lieutenant shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. "There are some people back on Earth who would prefer to ship off their elders to a rock instead of caring for them."  
  
"Yeah, but these people don't seem cold and heartless."  
  
"True," replied Malcolm. "Perhaps you should ask Zeekiel. He seems quite taken with you."  
  
Trip snorted. "He's just being friendly, Malcolm."  
  
"I don't know, sir."  
  
"Come on, Malcolm," sighed Trip then his vision suddenly blurred. He watched in stunned silence as his hand reached for his knife.  
  
"Kill him."  
  
Trip raised the utensil and embedded it deep in the lieutenant's chest. Hot blood sprayed the engineer's face and he gasped.  
  
"Trip?"  
  
The commander started. He looked down at the table where his knife still rested on his plate then he looked up at Malcolm who was staring at him curiously.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
Trip swallowed. "What the hell was that?" he asked.  
  
"What was what, sir?"  
  
Trip looked at his knife again then shook his head. "Nothing," he replied, still in shock. He stood. "I'd better get to work. See you, Malcolm."  
  
  
  
"Archer to Commander Tucker."  
  
"Tucker here."  
  
Jon smiled. "Any idea what time it is, Trip?" he asked.  
  
"Time, sir?"  
  
"Lunch?"  
  
"Ah damn, Captain. I'm on my way. Tucker out."  
  
The captain turned to his guest. "Trip can get pretty focused in his work. He'll be here shortly."  
  
"An admirable quality, Captain," replied Zeekiel. "How long have you and the commander known each other?"  
  
Jon sat down and placed his napkin in his lap. "Just over ten years now."  
  
"Your relationship is strong?"  
  
"Yeah, at least I hope it still is," replied Jon with a worried smile. "We really haven't spent a lot of time together in the Expanse. We've had our fair share of ups and downs but somehow our friendship seems to survive. I guess you could say we're like brothers as well as friends."  
  
"Brothers?" asked Zeekiel. "Those are two males born to the same parents, is that right?"  
  
Jon furrowed his brow in confusion. "That's right."  
  
Zeekiel nodded. "Then your relationship with the commander is not physical?"  
  
Jon shook his head. "No. I love Trip as my friend and my brother but I'm not IN love with him."  
  
Zeekiel nodded then fell silent.  
  
"Would you like some tea while we're waiting?" asked Jon still slightly off kilter from Zeekiel's questions. He lifted the glass pitcher.  
  
"Yes, thank you."  
  
The door to the captain's private dining room slid open just as Jon poured the ice-cold liquid into his guest's glass. He moved and poured some tea in Trip's glass as well then filled his own.  
  
Trip sat down quickly. "I'm sorry, sir. You didn't have to wait."  
  
"No problem. We haven't been served yet."  
  
"Captain Archer was just telling me that you two have known each other for ten years," said Zeekiel.  
  
Trip nodded. "Yep. Who'd have thought I could put up with him for that long."  
  
Jon chuckled and shook his head. "So how long have you been a companion, Zeekiel?" he asked.  
  
"Fifteen years."  
  
"Fifteen years?" said Trip incredulously.  
  
"Yes, Commander. Companions start their service at thirteen."  
  
"And what exactly are your duties?" asked Jon. He leaned back in his chair as a steward set a plate in front of him.  
  
"We tend to our elders' needs, whatever they may be. We are trained extensively in many areas. In fact, I have studied warp theory if you should need some assistance, Commander."  
  
"Thanks," replied Trip. "I'll keep that in mind."  
  
"I am also trained in the art of giving pleasure," said Zeekiel in a hushed voice. "If you should need assistance in that area as well."  
  
Jon looked at Trip who seemed to be struggling with swallowing a bite of pasta salad. "I'm sure the commander will keep that in mind, Zeekiel," the captain responded taking pity on his uncomfortable friend. He had to hide his smile at the engineer's sudden flushed complexion.  
  
Trip took two large gulps of his tea then set his glass down. "So am I to understand then by your training that you serve Meesa's---EVERY need?" he asked after clearing his throat.  
  
Zeekiel smiled warmly. "You understand correctly, Commander."  
  
"So how long have you been with her?" Trip continued.  
  
"I have been with the mistress for eight years. Before her I was with Master Takor."  
  
"What happened to him?" asked Jon.  
  
Zeekiel picked up his tuna sandwich. "He was laid to rest on Datoria IV," he responded then took a bite. "This is delicious."  
  
"Glad you like it," smiled Jon. He watched the young man take another bite. He was still amazed at how similar the Datorians were to humans. They were slight in stature, had tattoos across their noses, and had deep purple eyes but otherwise were very much like Earth's own inhabitants.  
  
"So what do your parents think of their son being a companion?" asked Trip.  
  
"I have no parents, Commander."  
  
"Call me Trip. No parents?"  
  
Zeekiel nodded. "We are created, Trip."  
  
Jon exchanged a puzzled look with his engineer.  
  
"You don't understand our ways. Datorians have different societal classes. For example I belong to the companion class. We are all created in the Great Hall. There are no family units only individuals created to serve their specific purpose in our society," explained Zeekiel.  
  
"So the elders are created in this hall as well?" asked Trip.  
  
"Our elders are members of other classes who have shown exceptional mental capabilities during their younger years."  
  
"Interesting," said Trip as he took another bite of his salad.  
  
Jon reached for the pitcher of ice tea and refilled the glasses. "So why do you take your elders to Datoria IV?" he asked. He couldn't help but notice the Datorian watching Trip curiously.  
  
"When our elders reach a certain age, their mental abilities diminish significantly," Zeekiel explained then he hesitated. "They become a risk to themselves as well as to others. For everyone's sake its best that they leave Datoria Prime."  
  
"What exactly are these---these mental abilities?"  
  
The Datorian smiled at Jon. "You are a curious species, Captain," he said. "I'm afraid as a companion I have taken an oath to protect the elder class. Suffice it to say that each elder is unique in his or her ability."  
  
Jon nodded his understanding and tried to tamp down his curiosity as he ate his sandwich. He glanced at Trip when he realized his friend had stopped eating. The younger man was staring at his plate as if in a daze. "Trip?"  
  
The engineer didn't respond.  
  
Jon put his sandwich down and reached out to lay a hand on Trip's forearm. "Trip? You okay?"  
  
Trip pulled away and stood suddenly, knocking over his chair. He backed up against the wall, his breathing ragged.  
  
Jon stood as well and moved instantly to his friend's side. "Trip!"  
  
"No!" the commander gasped. He was visibly shaking and still focused somewhere far away.  
  
The captain took Trip's face between his hands forcing the younger man's chin up. Jon searched his eyes. "Trip!"  
  
Finally the engineer's eyes focused and he looked at Jon in fear.  
  
"Trip, what's wrong?" Jon asked, his tone urgent.  
  
Trip squeezed his eyes shut then opened them to look at the captain again. "Cap'n?" he croaked.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
The engineer swallowed. "I---I don't know, sir."  
  
Jon guided Trip back to the table. He bent to pick up the tipped chair then helped Trip to sit. "What happened?" he asked as he knelt beside his friend.  
  
"I---I was trying to kill you."  
  
"What?"  
  
Trip inhaled deeply then let out his breath. "I could see my hands close around your throat and then---." He stopped and covered his face with his hands before rubbing them back through his hair.  
  
Jon stood and took Trip's arm pulling him to his feet again. "Come on. We're going to see Phlox." The captain turned to Zeekiel who was sitting quietly. "Please excuse us, Zeekiel, but I'd like Trip to see our doctor."  
  
The Datorian nodded and stood. "Of course, Captain. I certainly hope he's alright."  
  
"So do I, Zeekiel."  
  
  
  
Continued 


	2. Chapter Two

  
  
Chapter Two  
  
  
  
"Well I can't find anything physically wrong, Commander," said Dr. Phlox as he read the results of his scan.  
  
Trip looked at him. "Then what the hell happened to me?" he asked more sharply then he intended.  
  
"Has this sort of thing ever occurred before?" asked the doctor. He moved to stand directly in front of Trip who sat uneasily on a bio bed, his legs dangling over the edge.  
  
The commander hesitated and shifted uneasily.  
  
"Trip?" prompted Archer who stood at the engineer's side.  
  
"Yeah, this morning," Trip admitted grudgingly. "I was having breakfast with Malcolm and then---it was strange. I saw myself reach for my knife and then I stabbed him. I even felt his blood hit my face." His eyes moved to the pod where it lay hidden behind drawn curtains. "Its her, Doc. I know it."  
  
Phlox's eyes followed Trip's. "Meesa? She's in a deep sleep, Commander. Why do you believe she has anything to do with these---these visions of yours?"  
  
"Because she's been there in my dreams and then---," Trip paused, struggling to explain. He turned to the captain. "She was the one telling me to kill you and Malcolm, Cap'n."  
  
Archer shared a concerned look with the Denobulan doctor.  
  
Trip shook his head. "You think I'm losing it, don't you?" he said in defeat.  
  
"Of course not, Trip," replied Archer gently. "I think you're overworked and exhausted but not crazy."  
  
"When pushed to exhaustion, the human mind will sometimes----," began Phlox.  
  
"No," interrupted Trip. "I'm not imagining this, Doc. When she looked at me, something happened. She's doing this to me." He slipped off the bed and walked over to where the pod lay. He pulled back the curtains and peered inside the tomb-like case. The old woman was sleeping quietly on her back, her motionless hands resting on her abdomen. She was small and shriveled looking, the tattoo across the bridge of her nose almost invisible from age.  
  
Phlox appeared at Trip's side. "I'd like you to stay here tonight, Commander. If you have another episode I'd like to witness it myself as well as observe any possible changes in Meesa's condition."  
  
Trip nodded. "Thanks, Doc." He turned at the opening of the sickbay doors.  
  
Zeekiel stepped into the room and instantly moved to the pod. "Is something wrong with the mistress?" he asked in concern.  
  
"No, Zeekiel. She's still sleeping peacefully," replied Phlox. He pulled the curtains closed.  
  
"I came to check on the commander," said the Datorian. "Are you alright, Trip?"  
  
"Yeah---for now," replied Trip. He looked at the young man. "Zeekiel, is there anyway that Meesa could be---communicating with me somehow?"  
  
Zeekiel smiled and tipped his head to one side. "Communicating? She is in the Timbarra, the sleeping state, Trip."  
  
"I know but you mentioned mental abilities earlier. Does she have some sort of---telepathic powers?"  
  
"What are these questions about? Do you think she was the cause of whatever happened to you at lunch?"  
  
Trip nodded. "Yeah, I do."  
  
"I'm sorry, Trip, but in the Timbarra, Mistress Meesa has no such powers."  
  
"Are you sure, Zeekiel?" asked Archer as he stepped to Trip's side.  
  
"Yes, Captain. My mistress has no such abilities."  
  
"Great," muttered Trip. "Just great." He rubbed at the back of his neck then looked at the doctor. "If it's alright, Doc, I'd like to get back to work."  
  
"I'm not sure that's a wise idea, Commander."  
  
"I'll be fine. Maybe if I can keep my mind occupied I won't have anymore of these---well whatever the hell these things are---visions." He threw up his hands in exasperation.  
  
"I'd like you to stay in sickbay, Trip," said Archer quietly. "Let Phlox keep an eye on you."  
  
"Come on, sir. I'm fine---really. If it happens again, I'll come right back to see the doc."  
  
The captain looked at the engineer sternly. "Trip."  
  
Trip sighed. "Alright, Captain but let me at least finish up what I was working on and update my crew."  
  
Archer looked skeptical.  
  
"Five minutes," said Trip with a hopeful smile. "Ten max."  
  
"Trip."  
  
"I'll accompany the commander, Captain," volunteered Zeekiel suddenly. "I'd like to see engineering anyway."  
  
Trip looked down at the young Datorian then back up at Archer. "Sir?"  
  
Archer nodded. "If you're not back here in ten minutes, I'm sending security, you got that, Commander?"  
  
"Got it," Trip replied. He moved passed his commanding officer and with Zeekiel at his side, left sickbay.  
  
"He's very worried about you," said Zeekiel as the two walked.  
  
"I know."  
  
"He loves you, you know."  
  
Trip raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I guess he probably does. Never thought about it really."  
  
"And do you love him?"  
  
"Yeah I do. He's like family to me."  
  
"I'm not sure I fully understand the meaning of this---love."  
  
"Datorians don't love?"  
  
"We have loyalty and trust for one another, is that love?"  
  
Trip smiled kindly. "Part of it. Isn't there someone you feel close to? You want to be with all the time?"  
  
Zeekiel shook his head. "No one," he replied. He looked up at Trip. "Is that how you feel about Captain Archer?"  
  
"We're friends, Zeekiel. That's a different kind of love."  
  
"This is all so confusing."  
  
The commander chuckled. "Tell me about it," he said. "When two people are IN love, they have a more intimate connection with each other. They become lovers."  
  
"And you and the captain are not---lovers?"  
  
"That's right. We're friends, close friends."  
  
"Do you have a lover, Trip?" asked Zeekiel.  
  
"Now you're getting a little too personal."  
  
"I'm sorry if I've offended you."  
  
"You didn't offend me. I'm just not real comfortable talking about my relationships."  
  
Zeekiel grew quiet. "Does the thought of being intimate with a male repulse you?" he asked suddenly.  
  
Trip stopped walking and looked down at Zeekiel. "Why all the questions?" he asked unable to hide the hint of anger from his voice.  
  
"I HAVE offended you," replied Zeekiel. His face flushed and he dropped his eyes to the floor. "I apologize."  
  
The engineer sighed. "No, I'm sorry. You're on a strange ship with a strange species. I'd be curious, too." He began walking again. "I've always believed that love is love regardless of the two genders involved but I've never been attracted to---." His train of thought was quickly derailed as the Vulcan sub-commander exited the turbolift.  
  
"Commander," greeted T'Pol. "When you have some time, I'd like to go over Lieutenant Reed's proposed upgrades with you."  
  
"After dinner work? Ah, wait. The captain wants me to stay in sickbay for a while."  
  
"Are you not feeling well?" asked T'Pol.  
  
Trip couldn't help but smile at the concern in her voice. "I've had a couple---episodes today. Doc wants to keep an eye on me."  
  
"Episodes?"  
  
"Weird visions," explained Trip the he shrugged. "Probably nothing but over work."  
  
"We should be going, Trip," said Zeekiel. "Captain Archer is expecting you back in sickbay."  
  
Trip nodded. "Oh, right."  
  
"If it's acceptable, I could come to sickbay later. We can review the proposals there," offered T'Pol.  
  
"Sounds good. I'll see you later then, T'Pol," replied the engineer. He moved passed her and entered the 'lift. He turned and met her eyes before the door slid shut.  
  
"She is quite beautiful," said Zeekiel quietly.  
  
Trip nodded. "Yeah, she sure is," he replied then he cleared his throat. "Now what were we talking about?"  
  
"Nothing, Commander."  
  
  
  
T'Pol turned and met the chief engineer's eyes before the door closed in between them. She paused. He was ill and the thought did something unexpected to her stomach. Turning, T'Pol decided against her previous destination and opted for sickbay instead.  
  
Upon entering the ship's medical facility, T'Pol's gaze immediately fell on the captain and Dr. Phlox conversing next to the Datorian's sleeping pod.  
  
Dr. Phlox looked up. "Ah, Sub-commander. Is there something I can do for you?" he asked.  
  
"Doctor, Captain. I just spoke briefly with Commander Tucker in the corridor. He said he was having some sort of visions but he didn't elaborate. I'd like to offer my assistance in determining their cause if you should need it." T'Pol walked over to where the two men stood then gazed down at the sleeping Datorian.  
  
"So far, Dr. Phlox hasn't been able to figure out what's going on but Trip seems to think it has something to do with Meesa," replied Archer.  
  
"What exactly is he seeing in these visions?"  
  
"He sees himself killing," explained Phlox with a frown. "First Lieutenant Reed this morning then Captain Archer at lunch. He says Meesa is telling him to commit these acts."  
  
T'Pol arched an eyebrow. "Indeed," she replied. "And have you ruled out stress as a cause?"  
  
"I haven't ruled out anything, Sub-commander."  
  
The sound of the doors sliding open drew T'Pol's attention and she turned. Crewman Rostov and Lieutenant Reed entered carrying Commander Tucker between them. Zeekiel followed closely behind.  
  
"Doctor!" cried Reed. The two men laid the engineer on the nearest bio-bed then backed away to make room for Dr. Phlox.  
  
"What happened?" asked Archer as he moved to the side of the bed.  
  
"I'm not sure, sir," replied Rostov. "He was talking with the lieutenant and I when he just zoned out on us. We started walking him back here but then he collapsed."  
  
"He kept mumbling 'get her out of my head', Captain," interjected Reed.  
  
T'Pol looked down at the commander. His eyes were open but seemed focused elsewhere. His head jerked from side to side and his hands were flexing. Then he turned his head and looked directly at her. T'Pol could tell instantly that she was not looking into the eyes of the engineer. He reached out and took her arm.  
  
"Commander!" cried Phlox.  
  
T'Pol pulled away from Tucker's grip but he kept struggling to reach her. Archer and Reed held down the thrashing commander until Phlox could close the restraints around his wrists and ankles.  
  
"No!" Tucker growled.  
  
Phlox grabbed a hypospray and injected its contents into Tucker's neck.  
  
The engineer fell still, his eyes returning to a distant stare. "Get her out of my head," he mumbled. "Please, get her out." Then he was silent.  
  
"Are you alright?" asked a breathless Archer.  
  
"Yes," T'Pol said with a nod.  
  
"Zeekiel," said Phlox turning to look at the Datorian who still hovered near the doors. "Are you certain Meesa can't be doing this?"  
  
Zeekiel hesitated then shook his head.  
  
"You said earlier that while in the sleeping state, she didn't have telepathic abilities. What about when she's awake?" asked Archer.  
  
"Captain, I swore---."  
  
"I don't give a damn about your oath! Look at him!" yelled the captain. "If there's a chance Meesa is doing this to him, tell me!"  
  
Zeekiel froze.  
  
"Tell me!" repeated Archer.  
  
"Yes. When she is awake, Mistress Meesa has the gift," Zeekiel confessed in a hushed voice. "But she can't be doing this to Trip. In order for her to form a connection, she must look at him first."  
  
"Trip claims she did look at him, sir," said Reed. "When he was setting up the sleeping pod."  
  
Archer nodded then walked over to stand next to the pod. "How can we stop her, Zeekiel?" he asked.  
  
"If my mistress is responsible, Captain, you can't stop her."  
  
T'Pol looked at Dr. Phlox. "We won't reach Datoria IV for another two days, Doctor. Can Mr. Tucker survive a continuous assault?"  
  
Phlox shook his head. "He'll survive physically, T'Pol, but mentally? He's being bombarded with violent images in which he's killing people he cares about. There's no telling what toll this constant bombardment will take on his psyche."  
  
"Then we have to wake her up," said Archer.  
  
"You can't do that!" cried Zeekiel suddenly. "The journey to Datoria IV is a spiritual one for an elder. You mustn't disturb that!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Zeekiel, but I don't have a choice," replied the captain. "Doc, can you wake her?"  
  
T'Pol watched as Phlox, Reed and Rostov moved to the sleeping pod. Her gaze shifted to the commander. His head was twitching back and forth again as if he were fighting against the images he was being forced to see. His hands flexed then relaxed repeatedly in their restraints.  
  
Tentatively, T'Pol reached out and took one of Tucker's hands in her own. She knew he had become familiar with her touch and she hoped he would find comfort in it now. She was rewarded with a slight squeeze.  
  
Then T'Pol's vision blurred. She put pressure on the hand in hers until she could hear the bones breaking. Then she watched in stunned silence as her hands moved to Tucker's throat. He was looking at her, his eyes full of pain and fear. T'Pol knew he was afraid of her and she hesitated. She held his eyes as her hands closed around his neck.  
  
She stopped and forced her head up. Her heart was pounding relentlessly in her ears as her eyes fell on Meesa. The old woman was standing only meters away watching her. T'Pol took a deep breath and met the Datorian's eyes directly.  
  
Meesa started slightly in surprise. "You have a very strong mind, Vulcan," she said as she approached. The old woman looked at Tucker. "He fought me for a time but the human mind is no match for a Datorian's."  
  
"Why are you doing this to him?" asked T'Pol.  
  
"I wanted him and he rejected me."  
  
Tucker sat up slowly then gently held Meesa's face in his hands. T'Pol could see the odd angles of his broken fingers but Tucker didn't seem to notice. He leaned in and briefly touched his lips to the old woman's.  
  
"Do Vulcans feel jealousy?" asked Meesa as she tenderly stroked Tucker's cheek.  
  
T'Pol didn't respond. She watched as the old woman continued to touch the commander. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. The sound of her own breath roared in her ears but it became slow and steady.  
  
She opened her eyes and looked at Meesa. "You are in my mind," she said evenly. Then Tucker disappeared.  
  
Meesa stepped back. "You've lost him, Vulcan," she hissed then she too disappeared.  
  
"T'Pol?"  
  
The sub-commander blinked then looked up into the face of Dr. Phlox. She sat up instantly and looked around. Both the doctor and Archer were kneeling beside her on the floor. T'Pol reached a shaky hand up to grab the side of Tucker's bio-bed then stood.  
  
"What happened?" asked Archer.  
  
"Captain, it isn't Meesa that's doing this to Commander Tucker."  
  
  
  
Continued 


	3. Chapter Three

  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
  
"What?" asked Jon.  
  
"Its Zeekiel," replied T'Pol.  
  
Jon's instincts instantly told him his science officer was right. In a split second, all the pieces fell into place. He swung around and stared at the young Datorian.  
  
"She's wrong," breathed Zeekiel.  
  
"Let Trip go," demanded Jon as he took a step toward the younger man.  
  
"I'm not doing anything. I'm only a companion."  
  
"You said that elders were members of other classes in their youth, members who showed special mental capabilities." Jon took another step. "Capabilities like yours."  
  
Suddenly Trip cried out. Jon turned to look at his friend who was writhing and fighting against his restraints. He cried out again.  
  
"Stop this," demanded T'Pol.  
  
"If you harm me, Captain, I will kill him and his death will not be a quick one." He smiled. "Or maybe I'll just destroy his mind."  
  
Jon looked back at the Datorian but he could still hear the engineer's moans behind him.  
  
"Let him go."  
  
The captain turned at the new voice. Meesa stood by her sleeping pod with Reed, Phlox, and Rostov beside her. She seemed unsteady but the old woman's deep purple eyes were blazing.  
  
"Mistress," gasped Zeekiel.  
  
"Let him go, Zeekiel," demanded the elder again. She moved forward and placed herself between the captain and her companion.  
  
"I won't, Mistress."  
  
Jon moved to Trip's bedside and placed his hand on the commander's forehead. Dr. Phlox moved quickly to his patient's side. The engineer was still fighting against his restraints and Jon could see blood encircling his wrists. His friend's eyes were still opened and the agony he was feeling was clearly reflected in them. T'Pol appeared at the head of the bed. She placed her hands firmly on Trip's shoulders to hold him still.  
  
"I demand that you stop this torture!" shouted Meesa. "Please, Zeekiel. I don't want to hurt you!"  
  
Zeekiel laughed mirthlessly. "You are an old woman, Mistress. You can't hurt me."  
  
Trip clamped his jaw against a scream and tears slid from his eyes down his temples to soak into his pillow.  
  
"Zeekiel!" shouted Meesa. "Please!"  
  
The young Datorian laughed again in response then he fell suddenly silent.  
  
Trip's writhing ceased instantly and his eyes slowly closed. Keeping his hand on Trip's forehead, Jon turned to see Zeekiel lying in a heap on the floor. Meesa knelt beside him and bowed her head. Then the old woman stood and moved to Jon's side.  
  
"Is he dead?" asked the captain.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Thank you, Meesa."  
  
The elder smiled weakly. "I was showing him how to use his gift. I had no idea he would use it for such cruelty." She looked up at the captain. "You have me at a disadvantage, sir. I was told I would be transported to Datoria IV on an alien vessel but I have no idea who you are."  
  
  
  
Trip blinked. He was standing on the bridge surrounded by his friends. He looked down at his hands and found them covered with blood, their blood, and it was still warm. He turned to see Archer sitting awkwardly in his chair, half of his head torn away. Beyond him Trip could see Malcolm slumped over his console, his dark hair matted, his uniform soaked. Turning, the engineer saw Travis and Hoshi sprawled on the deck, their bodies bloodied and broken.  
  
"No," Trip choked. He stepped over to the science station and knelt beside T'Pol's still form. He rolled her over. She was dead, her heart pulled from her chest, green blood everywhere.  
  
The 'lift door slid open, drawing Trip's attention and Dr. Phlox appeared.  
  
Trip stood. "Doc, help me!" he pleaded.  
  
The Denobulan stared back at the commander with lifeless eyes then he fell forward into Trip's arms. There was a gaping hole in the doctor's back. Trip dropped the body then backed away, tears springing to his eyes. They were all dead.  
  
The engineer turned and ran but couldn't escape the bridge, the bodies of his friends, the people he considered his second family. Their blood was splattered everywhere and its stench filled Trip's nostrils. He tripped over Travis then crawled on his hands and knees, fighting to catch his breath, struggling to get away from what he'd done.  
  
Then he stopped and vomited.  
  
"Its alright, Commander," said Phlox gently. "You're safe."  
  
Trip retched again. Then he felt a warm gentle hand on his shoulder keeping him rolled onto his side. He threw up one last time then felt himself eased gently onto his back.  
  
Trip opened his eyes and stared into the face of the doctor. "You're alive?" he gasped as he sat up.  
  
Phlox nodded as he placed the silver bowl he held on the bedside table. "Yes, as are Captain Archer and the others." He applied gentle pressure to Trip's chest forcing him down. "Now lie back and try to relax." The doctor pulled the blanket up to cover the engineer.  
  
"But I killed them all, I killed you, Doc."  
  
"No, Commander," replied Phlox gently. "Zeekiel forced you to believe that's what happened but as you can see, I'm still very much alive."  
  
Trip squeezed his eyes shut and the horrible images of what he'd done to his friends assaulted him immediately. Charles Tucker III was a killer.  
  
The engineer brought his hands up to cover his face as he wept.  
  
  
  
T'Pol followed behind Archer and the elder Datorian as the three entered sickbay. She and the captain had taken Meesa to get something to eat while they waited for the commander to regain consciousness. The call had come from Phlox only moments before informing them that Tucker was awakening.  
  
The sight of the commander weeping caused T'Pol to stop just inside the doors. She had never seen him so broken and she was momentarily overcome by a strange ache in her chest. She swallowed and willed herself to move to the engineer's bedside with Archer.  
  
"Trip?" whispered the captain. "I'm here, Trip."  
  
Tucker shook his head. "No," he croaked.  
  
"Come on, Trip," coaxed Archer. "Look at me." He gently reached out and took the commander's hands then pulled them away from his face. "Look at me, Trip."  
  
Tucker turned his head away. "I---I can't," he managed. "This isn't real. You're dead."  
  
The captain gripped the hands he still held tightly. "I'm not dead, Trip. Look at me."  
  
Suddenly Tucker pulled away. He rolled off the bed, knocking Phlox to the floor then he stumbled to the counter. One hand closed around a laser scalpel.  
  
T'Pol moved instantly to Tucker's side and grabbed his wrist, staying his hand. "No, Commander," she said firmly.  
  
Tucker turned swollen eyes to look at her. "T'Pol?" he whispered.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Tucker."  
  
Tears formed in his eyes as he reached his free hand up to touch T'Pol's cheek. "I'm sorry I hurt you."  
  
"You have not hurt me," replied T'Pol softly.  
  
Tucker nodded. "But I did, T'Pol. And I can't live with that." He tried to pull his other hand away from her strong grip.  
  
"If you end your life, Mr. Tucker, only then will you hurt me," T'Pol whispered gently.  
  
The commander touched her cheek again. T'Pol raised her other hand to Tucker's shoulder where she sought out the nerve near his neck then she squeezed and the engineer collapsed against her.  
  
Archer stepped forward and took Tucker's legs then together they returned the unconscious commander to his bed.  
  
"Can you help him, Meesa?" asked Phlox.  
  
The elder stood silently at the foot of Tucker's bed. "I am an old woman, Doctor. My gift has faded with age. And I am weakened by my struggle with Zeekiel." She moved up to stand beside Phlox. She looked at the commander. "But I will try."  
  
"What will you do?" asked T'Pol.  
  
Meesa sighed. "He is seeing the violent images as actual occurrences in his life. They are very real to him as are the emotions that accompany them. I must remove these images from his mind."  
  
"Have you done this before?" inquired Archer.  
  
The elder smiled. "No, Captain," she replied. "I have had no such need on my home world. My gift was used only to better our understanding of and our relations with other worlds. You see I was a politician in my youth."  
  
Tucker began to stir, his head rolling from side to side.  
  
"Captain, the restraints," directed Phlox. "T'Pol, would you please?"  
  
As Archer and the doctor tightened the bands around Tucker's wrists, T'Pol closed the restraints around his ankles.  
  
The commander began thrashing more violently then his eyes flew open. "Let me go," he pleaded as he struggled. Then he stopped. "Please, just let me- --."  
  
Archer leaned in close to his friend. "Hang on, Trip. Meesa is going to help you."  
  
Tucker settled and looked directly at Archer. "Cap'n?"  
  
"Yes, Trip."  
  
"You're here?"  
  
Archer nodded. "We're all here, Trip."  
  
"Hello, Commander," said Meesa gently. Phlox moved aside so that the tiny woman could step closer. "I'm going to take your nightmares away, young man."  
  
Tucker looked at her in obvious confusion. "My nightmares?"  
  
Meesa nodded. "Doctor, he will need to be heavily sedated," she said over her shoulder.  
  
Phlox took a hypospray and gently placed it on Tucker's neck then released its contents.  
  
"No," Tucker said, his voice already slurring. "Don't take Lizzie." His eyes closed slowly. "Don't take Lizzie," he murmured again.  
  
Meesa looked up at Archer. "Lizzie?" she asked.  
  
"His sister."  
  
"She was killed in an attack on the human home world," explained T'Pol. She let her gaze fall on the sleeping commander. "Mr. Tucker has been haunted by her death in his dreams."  
  
"I see," replied the elder. "And I think I understand. I will not touch the images of his cherished one."  
  
"Thank you," said Archer softly.  
  
Meesa sighed. "I only hope you will thank me when this is over, Captain."  
  
  
  
Jon began pacing again. Meesa had been with Trip for over three hours and there was still no word from Dr. Phlox as to how it was going. He stared at the closed curtain that surrounded his friend's bed as he walked back and forth.  
  
"As I stated before, Captain," said T'Pol. "Your pacing will not speed up the procedure."  
  
Jon looked at his first officer who stood perfectly still, her hands clasped behind her back.  
  
"How can you remain so calm, Sub-commander?" asked Malcolm who had joined his senior officers earlier. "Trip's sanity is at stake here."  
  
"Just because I do not openly display my concern, Lieutenant, does not mean that I do not feel it," replied T'Pol and Jon caught the hint of anger in her carefully controlled voice. From the look on Malcolm's face, the captain knew he'd caught it as well.  
  
The three fell silent again but Jon continued his pacing. Then the curtain opened and Phlox appeared carrying Meesa in his arms. He hurried to help the doctor lay the elder gently on a bio-bed.  
  
"The procedure is finished," said Phlox. "She merely passed out from exhaustion. She should be fine with some rest."  
  
Jon nodded then joined Malcolm and T'Pol at Trip's side. His friend was resting peacefully, his face relaxed and calm.  
  
"Did it work?" asked Malcolm.  
  
"We won't know for certain until he awakens," replied the doctor. "Now might I suggest that the three of you take a break? I'll let you know when he begins to stir."  
  
"If you don't mind, Doc, I think I'll stay right here," said Jon.  
  
"As will I," added Malcolm.  
  
"I would like to remain here as well, Doctor."  
  
Phlox sighed but smiled knowingly. "Alright then but do remain quiet, hmm."  
  
Only minutes had passed when Trip started to mumble in his sleep. His head jerked from side to side and his hands flexed. Jon's stomach knotted with fear.  
  
He leaned over his friend and placed his hand on Trip's forehead. "Shhh," he soothed. "You're okay, Trip."  
  
Trip's eyes opened suddenly and he looked around in confusion. "What---?" he began then his eyes found Jon. "Cap'n? What's going on?"  
  
"How do you feel, Commander?" asked Phlox.  
  
"My head's killing me, Doc," Trip replied with a grimace. "Why am I in sickbay?"  
  
"What's the last thing you remember?" asked Jon. He removed his hand from his friend's forehead.  
  
Trip closed his eyes. "I was in engineering with Zeekiel, going over the shift schedule with Malcolm and Rostov." He paused then opened his eyes. "She was doing something to my mind, Cap'n, but why can't I remember?"  
  
"It wasn't Meesa, Trip. Turns out it was Zeekiel who was hurting you."  
  
"Zeekiel? But why?"  
  
"Remember at breakfast when I said he seemed quite taken with you?" asked Malcolm.  
  
Trip nodded. "You were only joking."  
  
"I was at the time but unfortunately it appears I was right."  
  
"That explains all his questions."  
  
"My companion saw something he wanted but couldn't have, Commander," said Meesa who suddenly appeared at Jon's elbow. He thought she looked worn and even more aged then before.  
  
Trip's eyes widened at the sight of the elder and he shied away.  
  
Jon put his hand on his friend's arm. "Its okay. She's the one who helped you."  
  
Trip looked hesitant. "How?"  
  
"I removed the visions Zeekiel planted in your mind," replied Meesa. She smiled warmly at the engineer. "I wasn't certain if I was going to be successful. You have a somewhat chaotic mind."  
  
"Indeed," agreed T'Pol.  
  
Trip smiled at the Vulcan then turned to Meesa. "Thank you for helping me."  
  
"You are quite welcome, young man."  
  
"I'm afraid I have to ask all of you to leave," interrupted Phlox. "I'd like Commander Tucker to get some rest." He looked at the elder. "You may stay and rest as well, if you'd like."  
  
Meesa shook her head. "What I'd like is to see your marvelous ship, Captain. Then I'm afraid I must go back into the Timbarra until the end of my journey."  
  
"What will you do without your companion?" asked Trip. "Who will take care of you?"  
  
Meesa patted his hand. "Now don't you fret over me, young man. I'll be well looked after." She looked up at Jon. "If it's no trouble, I'd like Sub-commander T'Pol to give me the tour. Some female conversation would be quite refreshing for this old woman."  
  
"T'Pol?" asked Jon.  
  
"I would be honored to show you the ship," replied the sub-commander with a dip of her head.  
  
"I should be going as well," said Malcolm reluctantly. "Take care of yourself, Commander. I'll be back to check on you later."  
  
"Thanks, Malcolm."  
  
Jon watched the three as they exited sickbay then he turned back to his friend. "Before you awoke just now, you were having a dream. What was it?"  
  
Trip looked at the ceiling and his fingers picked absently at his blanket.  
  
"Was it about your sister?"  
  
The commander nodded reluctantly. "As horrible as they are, the nightmares are the only time I can see her alive, Cap'n. If they stop, then she's really gone."  
  
Jon shared a concerned look with Dr. Phlox. He patted Trip's arm gently. "Get some rest. We'll talk later."  
  
Phlox administered a hypospray and the captain watched as his friend drifted into sleep.  
  
"Has he talked to you about his sister yet, Captain?"  
  
Jon shook his head.  
  
"Have you asked him about her?"  
  
"No, Doctor," Jon replied a bit harsher than he intended. He sighed. "He's been acting more like himself lately. I guess I thought he'd talked to T'Pol."  
  
"I think 'acting' is the operative word here," replied Phlox. He pulled Trip's blanket up under the engineer's chin. "I'm afraid humans and Denobulans both are generally blind when it comes to those we care about most. And no, he hasn't confided in T'Pol. She has certainly tried to get him to open up but each time she broaches the subject, he becomes highly agitated."  
  
"He's hanging onto his grief, isn't he? So when we finally find those responsible for his sister's death---." Jon stopped. "I'll keep him safe, Doc. He might hate me for it, but I'll keep him safe. In the mean time, though, I've got a weapon to find. I need to devote all my energy to finding it." He looked down at his sleeping friend. "But I'll be there for you when this is finished, Trip. I promise you that---if its not too late."  
  
  
  
Continued 


	4. Chapter Four

  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
  
"I apologize, Sub-commander, but I'm afraid I'm a bit more tired than I'd realized. Do you mind if we return to sickbay?"  
  
T'Pol nodded. "Of course not. Do you require any assistance?"  
  
Meesa smiled warmly. "I'll make it just fine."  
  
The two women turned around and walked slowly back up the long corridor.  
  
"You're still worried about him, aren't you?"  
  
T'Pol arched an eyebrow. "I don't recall giving you permission to read my thoughts," she replied evenly.  
  
Meesa chuckled good-naturedly. "I'm not reading your thoughts, Sub- commander," she said. "Call it a woman's intuition."  
  
"Then I apologize."  
  
"He has a very strong mind, you know. And he has this amazing ability to experience a vast assortment of emotions, some I've never felt before. Do all humans?"  
  
"They are a highly emotional species. Mr. Tucker is a prime example of that."  
  
"I found being in his mind quite exhilarating. I wish Datorians could feel life as he does."  
  
"Then you are like Vulcans? You suppress your emotions?" asked T'Pol.  
  
Meesa shook her head. "We have simply not experienced some of them. For instance, I sensed something from Commander Tucker that I have never sensed before in a Datorian."  
  
"Indeed," replied T'Pol. "May I ask what it was you experienced?"  
  
"An odd warmth and that description does not do the feeling justice. I sensed it most around his images of Captain Archer and---and of you, Sub- commander."  
  
T'Pol swallowed. "Mr. Tucker considers us his friends, Meesa. It is quite logical that you would sense that in him."  
  
"But what he feels for you is much different than what he feels for the captain. Not stronger but different. Why is that?"  
  
"I don't know," T'Pol replied uneasily. "Perhaps you should ask him."  
  
"I'm sorry, Sub-commander. I'm just prattling on while you probably don't understand anymore than I do what these humans feel."  
  
"There is no need to apologize."  
  
Meesa cleared her throat. "If I may be a nosey old woman, do your feelings for the captain and the commander differ?"  
  
T'Pol hesitated. "I am loyal to both," she replied simply.  
  
"Ah, loyalty I can understand. Datorians are a very loyal species. But we have varying degrees of loyalty. Is that the same for Vulcans?"  
  
T'Pol looked down at the elder. "Datorians, it seems, are also a highly curious species."  
  
Meesa laughed. "Say no more, Sub-commander."  
  
The two walked on in silence.  
  
When they arrived outside the sickbay doors, T'Pol stopped and turned to Meesa. "What was it like touching his mind?" she asked.  
  
Meesa smiled kindly. "Like I said before, it was exhilarating."  
  
T'Pol nodded then lifted her hand to press the entry pad. She stopped when Meesa took her other hand in both of hers. Suddenly T'Pol found herself surrounded by clouds of breathtaking colors. She felt warm and completely safe. Then powerful feelings of affection and contentment washed over her, taking the very breath from her lungs. She immediately knew that this was the commander and that she was experiencing his feelings for her.  
  
T'Pol blinked.  
  
"Now you have touched his mind, child," Meesa said gently. "And it is this old woman's hope that you feel the same about him."  
  
  
  
Jon was still standing at Trip's bedside when the doors slid open to reveal T'Pol and Meesa.  
  
He looked at them in surprise. "You weren't gone long. Everything okay?"  
  
"Yes, Captain," replied Meesa. "I just think it's best if I return to my sleeping pod. Would you and the doctor assist me?"  
  
"Of course we will," said Phlox.  
  
Meesa turned to T'Pol who stood behind her. "Take care, child. And remember what I've shown you."  
  
T'Pol nodded. "Thank you," she replied softly.  
  
Jon puzzled at the odd exchange as he moved forward to take Meesa's arm. T'Pol walked over to stand next to Trip.  
  
"Come now," coaxed Phlox and he took Meesa's other arm. "Lets get you settled, shall we?"  
  
"Such kind young gentlemen," remarked Meesa with a wide grin.  
  
Together, Jon and Phlox helped the elder into her special bed.  
  
"I can't thank you enough for what you did for Trip, Meesa," said the captain. "For all us."  
  
Meesa smiled then sobered. "I'm sorry Zeekiel almost took him from you. I honestly had no idea he was capable of such repugnancy."  
  
"Well Trip is fine now thanks to you so that's all that really matters."  
  
"I agree, Meesa," said Phlox. "We owe you a great deal."  
  
"Nonsense, Doctor but I thank you anyway."  
  
Meesa laid back and rested her head on her silken pillow. "Good luck on your journey, Captain. And please remember that there are people near to you who care about you very much. Please keep them close and draw from their strength for they will give it to you freely. You need not face each day alone."  
  
Jon started slightly in surprise then nodded his head, completely lost for words.  
  
Meesa looked up at Phlox. "And my good doctor," she smiled. "You have an insatiable need to help others. Please remember that sometimes it is best to let them find their own way naturally."  
  
Phlox spluttered indignantly.  
  
Meesa reached up and patted his hand kindly. "You will understand in a very short time the meaning behind my words, Doctor," she explained.  
  
The Denobulan turned around to look at where Trip lay quietly sleeping with T'Pol watching over him then he looked back at the elder. "I will heed your advice, young lady."  
  
Meesa's purple eyes shone with her merriment. "Our paths will not cross again and for that I am saddened. There is so much I'd like to know about all of you. But thanks to your Commander Tucker, I have at least had a glimpse. Thank him for me, would you please?"  
  
Jon nodded. "You got it. Goodbye, Meesa." He carefully lowered the clear cover over the sleeping pod as Phlox fingered the life support controls. Slowly, the elder Datorian fell asleep, a contented smile on her lips.  
  
  
  
Trip squeezed his eyes shut then opened them to look at the specs again. He'd read and then re-read Malcolm's proposed upgrades but it seemed none of the words or numbers were reaching his brain. He put his elbow on his desk and kneaded his forehead with his fingertips.  
  
Then his door chime chirped. "Come in," he called.  
  
T'Pol entered the room. "Commander," she greeted evenly. "Its 1800 hours."  
  
Trip stared at her blankly.  
  
"Dinner with the captain? I thought perhaps we could walk together."  
  
"Oh, that's right," Trip said. He stood from his chair. "I was just going over Malcolm's proposals, thought maybe we could go over them later since we never got the chance before."  
  
"That would be fine, Mr. Tucker."  
  
"Good," replied Trip. "Well, I guess we shouldn't keep the captain waiting."  
  
Side by side they left the engineer's quarters.  
  
"Too bad you couldn't go down to Datoria IV today, T'Pol. It was amazing."  
  
"Our scans showed it to be quite desolate."  
  
"Well there was no plant life or even animal life for that matter. Only kilometers of sand but it was this soft white color and the sky was light purple." Trip shook his head at the memory.  
  
"Were the Datorians pleased to see Meesa?"  
  
Trip nodded. "But not so pleased to get Zeekiel's body. Lonnya, the young woman who greeted us, said that he'd be burned then his ashes scattered on the midnight winds. She also said that no one created in their Great Hall would ever bear the name Zeekiel again."  
  
"It appears they took his crime against you quite seriously," said T'Pol.  
  
"They sure did. But they welcomed Meesa with open arms," Trip replied. "Did you know that she'll remain in her Timbarra for the rest of her life? Lonnya says that she'll experience fantastic dreams. She also said that everything Zeekiel told us about the elders being a threat was a lie. Their gifts simply weaken as they near their death. They don't become dangerous or crazy at all."  
  
"Meesa certainly didn't exhibit any signs of mental illness."  
  
"No she didn't," replied the commander. "You know, thank you just didn't seem like enough after what she did for me."  
  
T'Pol glanced up at him. "She was content with our gratitude, Mr. Tucker."  
  
"I know but from what the doc tells me, I probably would've lost my sanity if she hadn't stepped in to help."  
  
"For a short time, perhaps," replied T'Pol.  
  
Trip smiled. "You think I could've fought my way back without her?"  
  
"Of that I have no doubt, Commander."  
  
"You have more faith in me than I do, T'Pol."  
  
The sub-commander glanced up at Trip again. "Apparently so," she replied.  
  
Trip cleared his throat. "Thanks."  
  
They continued to the mess hall in companionable silence.  
  
  
  
Jon sat back in his chair and regarded his two senior officers. It felt good being in their company again at the dinner table. He thought he could probably count the number of times they'd dined together since they'd entered the Expanse on one hand.  
  
The steward came in and cleared away their dishes then poured Jon a cup of coffee. The captain was surprised when Trip declined his favorite hot beverage.  
  
"No coffee, Trip? You sure you're alright?"  
  
Trip grinned. "I've been trying not to drink it too late in the evening, makes it harder to get to sleep," he replied.  
  
Jon nodded. "You got any plans tonight?"  
  
"Yeah, T'Pol and I are going to review Malcolm's weapons proposals. Why?"  
  
"No reason," Jon replied. He took a sip of his coffee then put the cup down. "You know, maybe I should stop drinking this stuff so late, too."  
  
"Can't hurt, sir."  
  
"Are you ready, Commander?" asked T'Pol as she rose from her chair.  
  
Trip looked at Jon, an odd expression on his face.  
  
"Commander?" said T'Pol again.  
  
"Uh, yeah, I'm ready." Trip stood then smiled at Jon. "Night, sir."  
  
"Good night, Trip."  
  
"Captain," said the sub-commander with a nod of her head.  
  
"Good night, T'Pol."  
  
Jon watched the two leave then stared at the door after it closed behind them. He sighed then stood and moved to the big view port. He didn't know quite when it had happened, but somewhere over the past few months, he'd lost his close connection with Trip. Jon couldn't recall the last conversation they'd shared when they hadn't discussed the mission or their jobs. And how could he not have seen that Trip was still clinging to his grief like a safety line.  
  
The captain shook his head. Maybe Meesa had been wrong. Maybe he'd already driven away the people who cared about him, driven away Trip. Even though he was tired of facing the mission alone, maybe that was all that was left for him.  
  
Jon heard the door slide open but didn't turn to acknowledge it. He knew it would only be the steward returning to clean up.  
  
"Cap'n?"  
  
Jon turned to see Trip standing in the doorway. "Trip? Did you forget something?"  
  
Trip shook his head. "Nah. T'Pol and I decided Malcolm's proposals could wait."  
  
Jon inhaled a shaky breath then smiled. "Lieutenant Reed won't be too please to hear that."  
  
The commander grinned. "He'll get over it. Now you want to tell me what's on your mind?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Well for one thing, you haven't asked me if I had plans for the night in months," Trip began.  
  
Jon nodded. "I know and I'm sorry, Trip."  
  
"Ah, don't be, Cap'n. You've had a lot on your mind."  
  
Jon pursed his lips and nodded again.  
  
"So?" Trip pressed. "What's bugging you? And don't bother telling me nothing because I won't buy it."  
  
Jon smiled. "Well," he began. "I've mapped a trajectory for that Xindi ship carrying the Kemosite. There are five planets---."  
  
Trip shook his head. "I didn't give up an evening with T'Pol to talk shop, Cap'n."  
  
"An evening with T'Pol, huh? Is there something you'd like to tell me?" Jon watched in amusement as his friend's face turned red. "Trip?"  
  
"I'm not here to talk about me, I'm here to talk about you."  
  
Jon laughed. "Maybe we both need that coffee then."  
  
Trip grinned. "I'll get the steward, ask him to bring in a full pot." He turned to the wall comm.  
  
"Trip?"  
  
The engineer turned.  
  
"Thanks for coming back," said Jon forcing his voice to remain steady.  
  
Trip smiled warmly. "Thanks for wanting me to, Cap'n," he replied.  
  
  
  
THE END 


End file.
